Mexico has suffered a bum rap over the past few years. Drug lords, gang violence, swine flu ... the combination has translated into a dramatic falloff in this country's appeal for would-be American retirees. Meantime, Mexico is home to more than a million American expats. They can't all be misguided.

Chances are you've heard of Hernan Cortes, the great Spanish conquistador who - with just 500 soldiers - snatched what's now the country of Mexico away from the powerful Aztec emperor Moctezuma in 1521.

Imagine it's the 16th century, and you're on a 2,500-ton Spanish super-galleon sailing off the Pacific coast of Mexico. You're on your way back from a long, dangerous voyage to Manila, where traders from Spain's conquered lands in the Americas.

If you've been to a party in Mazatlan, Mexico, you know what they mean by "fiesta." Now multiply by 10, add a chorus from Julio Iglesias and a wow from Lady Gaga, and you'll have a faint idea of the welcome celebration awaiting cruise passengers soon to disembark at this classic seaside port town.

Whether I speak the language, or have the opportunity to use anything I might find at the market, I just love to go and wander, see what's available, watch the locals bargaining and commenting on the day's offerings.

Now, if the photo had been of an ordinary matador I might have blown it off. Gold-embroidered jacket, red cape, ballet slippers, sharp sword, ho hum. But a man on horseback, head-to-head with an angry bull?

Next time you're planning a vacation south of the border, chances are the bargain rates you'll see in the travel ads -- one might say: "7 nites in Los Cabos for $750 PPDO incl. air" -- came from a deal cut at Tianguis.

Mazatlan is the place where I've wiggled my toes in the sand, swum in the waves, sampled the restaurants, admired the city lights at night from a friend's house high on a hill and, along the way, made a dozen new friends. And now there's a new way to get there.

An army is invading Mazatlan. Its troopers are architects, painters, carpenters, plumbers and electricians. Their mission: to create a major new tourism attraction by restoring the colonial splendor of dozens of blocks of crumbling, long-neglected buildings running inland from the town's cruise docks.

You may have to squint to find these spots on the map -- if they show up at all -- but look for them about half-way down the west coast of Mexico. What's happening there? Playa Espiritu is going to be the country's next tropical Eden.